


It's Never Just Heart Disease

by theimpossibleimpala



Series: Why Can't It Start Here [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Dean in Denial, Declarations Of Love, Heartache, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, One Shot, Story Prompt, Unrequited Love, honestly kind of sad sorry, sick!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8168122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimpossibleimpala/pseuds/theimpossibleimpala
Summary: Cas is sick. Or at least that's what he says, and what Dean believes. But Sam isn't so sure if Cas's illness is everything that meets the eyes.





	

 

CAS IS SICK. Or at least, as far as Dean can tell. 

The guy's been laid up for a week in his room at the bunker, and has barely left it other than to grab some books for research.

Dean isn't sure what happened, but they'd just gotten back from a hunt when it began. It had been a ghost, some sort of "emotion ghost" that tethered itself to intense feelings to stay grounded. It had grabbed onto Cas at one point, which Dean had thought was strange. After all, Cas is an angel, how would emotions effect him? Well, okay, Dean obviously know the dude's not heartless, it was just...odd to see a ghost more in tune with Cas's feelings than Dean has ever been.

Yesterday, Cas had emerged to watch 60 Minutes on the tv at six, some special on a tragedy in the Middle East, and Dean had slumped onto the couch beside him.

"So? What's up?" He'd asked in an attempt to loosen the angel's tongue.

"The ceiling."

The hunter snorted, "Yeah okay, smartass. But I mean... What's up with you?"

Cas shrugged, "Not much."

"You sure? Are you sick?"

Castiel muted the tv which had gone to commercial, then rubbed at chest. 

"Perhaps."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe nothing. I've simply been having some shortness of breath."

Dean frowned, adjusting himself on the couch to better face his friend, "Do you need to breathe?"

"Not technically, I suppose," Cas replied, still rubbing his chest. And now that Dean thought about it, Cas has been doing that pretty often. "But having any sort of vessel failure is...concerning."

The show came back on, and Cas turned up the volume, not having looked at Dean once throughout the entire conversation. It was unnerving.

Now Dean sits alone in the kitchen, a bottle of beer between his hands on the table. He spaces out, blindly staring at the sink as thoughts scurry through his mind. Is Cas's body sick? Could his body _die_ with an angel in it? It sounds out of place, like it can't be possible. Cas, _sick_? He would laugh if he weren't so scared. He's only seen Cas as invincible, as fierce and fiery. Sure, Cas has made mistakes, he's headstrong and  defensive. He's dedicated. Having Cas potentially crumble like this...is terrifying.

But this is all ridiculous, right? Cas isn't going anywhere. But does he need to? Could he need professional help? If it's Cas's body that's hurting, then a doctor visit could be very well worth it. But why does it have to be some big-bad thing? Maybe Cas only needs a break; the angel has been through so much, he must be exhausted. This makes sense, Dean thinks, this seems like a safe explanation. Castiel wants a lazy long weekend just like anybody else. Cas is simply uncomfortable with resting often, so his body is relaxing and the angel is unfamiliar with it. That's all. That's plausible. And that, Dean decides, is the truth.

Sam comes into the room then, seeming frazzled.

"Dean? Did you hear me yell at you?"

The older brother jerks in surprise, running a hand over his face as he tries to process Sam's words.

"What are you talking about?"

"I yelled at you to bring Cas some water, he fainted."

Cas, _what?_

"He – he – _fainted?_ " Dean asks incredulously.

"Yes, please grab him some water, I'm going to go grab extra pillows," Sam says shortly and then stalks off.

In a daze, Dean rushes to turn on the tap and fill a glass for the angel. He walks quickly to his friend's room, and comes to a stop outside it. Why is he afraid to know what's inside?

A voice croaks, "Dean?"

He gives in and pushes open the door, going to Cas's bedside table to set the cup down. 

"Hey, man. What's going on?" Dean sits down in the edge of the bed, studying Cas carefully as he grabs the glass to sip from it.

"I'm in need of bed rest."

"I can see that," Dean smiles softly at the way the blankets are pulled snugly up over his chest, his arms over the top. "Your angel mojo need recharging?"

"No, I don't think that's it," Cas disagrees, picking at the bedspread.

"Was it 'cus of that ghost we ganked? I mean, I know she attached to you, but I didn't know it could do that to angels."

"I am different than other angels, Dean," Cas states plainly, "I have lost faith in Heaven, and have found guidance in the way _I_ feel, and because of this I was a prime victim for her, though I do not believe she is what caused this."

"And what exactly is this? Does your chest hurt?" Dean pushes.

Cas sets down his water, his brilliant blue eyes never once catching Dean's.

"Yes it does. It feels..." Cas presses a palm to where his heart is, "strained. And my heart either seems to beat much too fast, or much too slow. I have been in this vessel for so long, I have become deeply engrained in its flesh and bones. If anything were to happen to it, it would not only strike the skin, but the most vulnerable parts of my grace."

Dean swallows, turning to rest his elbows on his knees. "That doesn't sound good."

"I agree."

A few steps echo in the hall, then Sam appears in the doorway.

"Hey, um, got you some extra pillows, Cas. Flannel cases just like you like."

Dean doesn't miss a beat. The angel gazes up at Sam, meets his eyes, and smiles greatfully.

"Why thank you, Sam. That's very kind of you."

Dean casts a quick glare at his friend, how come he was behaving so strangely towards Dean? Had he done something wrong?

"Dean?" His brother gestures for Dean to get off the bed, and he does. Sam goes to Cas's head and pushes a pillow behind him, and hands the other for Cas to wrap his arms around.

"Thank you," The angel says again.

"No problem, let us know if you need anything, okay? You want me to look for angel books in the library?" Sam offers.

Cas shakes his head, "No, whatever this is won't be found in any book. I will be fine."

"Okay."

Sam nods a last time, then passes Dean and into the hall. As the footsteps fade, Dean rounds on Cas.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Castiel glances up in surprise, holding Dean's gaze longer than he has in a week. "No, why would you think that?"

"You're...treating me weird."

And then Cas's blue irises are gone, directed to a wall.

"I am not. I simply feel weird."

The hunter skowls, putting a hand down on the angel's shoulder, "Are you okay? Can I do anything to help?"

"I'm fine, Dean. Please let me rest," Cas grits out.

"Cas, man, you gotta look at me."

Dean hates how desperate he sounds, but he's _cares_ about Cas goddammit, and he needs to know what's wrong with him.

His friend's glare is ice as he growls, "I'm fine Dean. I'll recover shortly."

Deans hand drops to his side, he grunts in stubborn acceptance as he steps backwards towards the door.

"Gonna be that way, are you?"

"Please..." Cas takes a gulp of air, "Please just leave..." Another gasp, "Please..." And now he's breathing heavily, sucking in air  as if he's drowning.

The angel is shaking, his hands on his chest as his upper body curves over and he curls into himself.

A fearful whisper nearly escapes Dean, but he catches it just in time to swallow it. He leaves the room in a huff. 

But he can't help to glance back, and see his friend, his _only_ friend, who is sick.

—

"Do you think we should take him to a doctor?"

Sam looks up slowly from his laptop. "Cas?"

Dean sips his coffee, the mug warming his hands. It's too sugary for his taste, which is saying something with his sweet tooth. Cas would love it though. Is it weird he knows the angels drink preferences? Is it weird he brings Cas pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks in the fall? Or that when the coffeeshops stop serving it he makes it at home specifically for Cas?

"No, my pet monkey." Dean rolls his eyes, "Yes, Cas. He seems sick."

Sam shuts his laptop. He has yet to mention this to Dean, but he supposes it's better to do now than later.

"Are you sure he's sick?"

The older brother slams his mug down, "Am I _sure_ he's sick? Jeez, Sam. It's not like he's been hiding in his goddamn room for two weeks or anything. Or the fact that he keeps rubbing his chest and breathing all heavy. Maybe if he keels over you'll consider something might be wrong?"

"Dean, c'mon, you know that's not what I meant," Sam argues.

"Then what did you mean?" Dean demands defensively.

"I meant, if you'd listen for a second, maybe his body is fine and it's his mind that's in pain."

Dean glares, "What's that even supposed to mean? He has _physical_ symptoms, he's not _pretending_."

"I don't think he's pretending!" Sam snaps, shoving a lock of hair back behind his ear. "I think he's hurting on the inside for other reasons, and all the stress and sadness is showing on the outside."

Dean glares harder, "You think I wouldn't know if something was _upsetting_ him? Jesus Christ, are you blind? Don't you hear him coughing at night, or see how slowly he walks; and that's if he even _comes_ _out_ of his room."

"I think _you're_ blind to emotions, Dean," Sam replies shortly. He gets up from the war room table, grabbing his laptop and stalking away down the hall to check on the said angel.

Sam taps softly on Cas's door.

"Come in, Sam."

Sam enters with a small smile. Cas is sitting comfortably in the center of his bed with an old novel in hand. His bedside lamp emits a soft and welcoming glow over the room, and the youngest Winchester takes a moment to appreciate the decorations Cas has gathered together. 

Large animal posters of sea creatures and dessert animals cover one wall, the other that has a small basement window has a bunch of house plants on a shelf that are healthy and green, and against the third wall is Cas's desk and his bed a large green comforter on it.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"You and your brother have very different footsteps."

Sam nods. 

But this is how he first noticed it. Whenever Cas mentioned Dean in a conversation between them, he specifically referred to him as "your brother," as if Cas couldn't say his name. As if Cas didn't even _know_ Dean's name. Which obviously he does, but there has to be be something Sam is  missing.

"Can I get you anything? Food? Drink? Deck of cards?"

Castiel perked up slightly, "Cards could be fun. Would you teach me a game?"

And that's another thing, since when did Cas ask Sam to hang out with him? It has always been Cas and Dean. Always. Sam knew it the first turn he saw them in a room together; the way they looked at each other, the way they communicated without words after barely meeting. And it's not like Sam minds at all being the center of Castiel's attention, but he's worried about why. He thinks there's every chance in the world he's being used as a replacement for Dean.

"Um, I've got some calls to make but I'm sure Dean would be all for it."

"Oh, I'm sure your brother is busy too," Cas says quickly, glancing away and back down to his book.

"I'm sure he can make time for you."

The angel doesn't even grace Sam  with a sigh or a nod or _anything_ , he's just left hanging.

"Cas?"

"What?" 

"Did something happen? Did you and Dean fight?"

Cas heaves a tremendous sigh, tossing his book to the blankets and folding up his knees to his chest.

"You wanna know what happened, Sam?"

The hunter nods carefully.

"I learned the hard way that sometimes things are better left unsaid."

"Like what?" Sam can't help but push.

"Like things that come straight from the heart."

—

It's been a month since they got home from the ghost hunt, and Dean's feeling anxious.

His fingers strum the table rapidly and he glances around the library restlessly. His gaze lands on Cas who is sitting down the steps and at the war room table, cards spread out on top of it.

"What you playing, Cas?"

The angel doesn't even look up, "Google told me how to play solitaire."

"Solitaire? That crap's boring, man. How about I teach you some Rummy." Dean gets up, making his way down to his friend.

Cas's eyes widen in alarm, "No, I'm quite happy playing on my own."

"I'm bored as hell, Cas. Please?" The hunter pulls out a chair and slumps into it. 

Castiel fumbles with the deck in his hands nervously, his attention switching from the cards laid out in columns and Dean. He runs at his chest, taking a deep breath, then uses the entirety of both arms to sweep up all the cards. Dean would grin if he weren't so worried, but he manages a small smile as the haphazard deck is shoved in front of him to shuffle.

He straightens out all the edges then splits the deck to shuffle, showing off his mad skills just a little as he does it all in the air, no table needed. Cas doesn't even watch, his blue eyes are closed. Dean suppresses the sadness that swells within his chest; this isn't normal. This isn't Cas. Only, the angel keeps saying he's fine and insisting on helping and Dean just _doesn't understand_. 

He passes out the cards, and as he does so he begins to explain the rules. Castiel nods along, watching as Dean pulls cards out to demonstrate the right matches and show how best to organise your hand. They begin to play after a quick practice round, and Dean forgets to worry about Cas.

The angel is intensely focused, with a pokerface so solid not even Dean tossing a frito at his face could make it waver. The hunter however breaks easily when Cas threatens to scoop up six cards from the discard pile, when Dean desperately needs the Jack of hearts which is sixth. Cas moves his hand above the line, eyes boring straight into Dean's. Cas raises a single eyebrow as his fingers touch the Jack. Dean grits his teeth, and that gives him away. With an evil smile, Castiel takes the Jack and the five other cards into his hand. He plays his match of all four Jacks and settles back in his seat, a cocky ass smirk on his face.

"You think you're so damn smooth, don't you?" Dean skowls, discarding his now useless Queen of hearts.

"Yes, yes I do, Dean," Cas's smirk broadens and he takes Dean's Queen, then plays it and two other Queens next to his Jacks.

"Are you cheating over there? Using your damn angel mojo or some shit?" Dean draws a card in frustration, slamming down the one he chooses to discard.

"You don't like losing, do you Dean?"

And now Cas takes the freaking ten of diamonds the hunter just got rid of and plays it with a nine, eight, and seven – wearing another grin. Or rather, the same grin, just bigger.

"I'm not _losing_ , Cas, I'm planning." He defends.

"Sure."

Dean glares at his hand. An ace of clubs, and two red kings. He can't do shit with that unless... Then he draws the ace of spades. 

He puts on a shit-eating grin and lays down his treasure, earning a furrowed brow from his friend.

"How you like them apples?"

"Not much," Cas admits.

Dean smiles, organising his hand and then glancing at the angel. Cas, while slightly grumpy in appearance, is clearly enjoying himself and Dean is soaking up every second of it. 

"All is fair in love and Rummy, Cas."

Somehow, this is the wrong thing to say. One second Cas is playfully glaring at Dean, and the next the angel's eyes are filled with tears. Castiel abruptly stands, swaying slightly as he puts both hands on the table to steady himself.

"Cas, man, are you okay?" Dean asks in worry, dropping his cards and leaning forward.

Castiel begins breathing heavily, a palm beginning to rub at his chest as it heaves.

"Cas? Talk to me, what can I do to –" Dean reaches forward for one of Cas's wrists and the angel pulls away as if stung.

He peers down at Dean with a look the hunter has never before seen. It's tearful and angry and despairing and _terrible_. Dean hates it. And he hates it even more because he's afraid he's the one who put it there.

Dean gets up slowly as the angel begins to back away. He makes to go around the table, but by the time he has Cas has dissapeared from his spot and is running down the hallway to the bedrooms.

"Cas! What's wrong? Come back!"

But Cas doesn't stop, so Dean goes after him.

His footsteps are heavy while Cas's are swift. Dean rounds a corner and arrives just in time to slam the angel's bedroom door shut as he attempts to open it.

"Dean, Dean, please...let me go in. Let me hide..." And then Dean realises Cas is crying. 

Castiel, badass angel of the Lord who rebelled against Heaven and saved the world, is crying. 

Dean's voice breaks when he speaks, "Ca...Cas? What's happening, man? What's wrong?"

He doesn't get an answer, instead Cas says jumbled phrases much too quickly.

"It's too much...I thought I could but I can't... I told you! And then you said... But it doesn't matter, it wasn't right. And everyone was right and I couldn't see it and maybe it was because neither could...you...but it doesn't matter," Cas shakes his head continuously as tears streak down his face. Dean tries to pull him in for a hug but Cas pushes him roughly away, "No...no, it doesn't matter. Happy. Be happy. It doesn't matter. It's not real. It can't be."

Dean grabs the sides of Cas's face in his hands, as gently as he can, and forces the angel to look at him. 

"Cas, what's wrong?"

There's a long silence, and Dean thinks maybe Cas is going to explain, but then the angel's breathing picks up, and Dean can _feel_ the guys actual heartbeat speeding faster and faster. Cas's eyelids flutter, then he collapses.

—

"Is he gonna be okay?" Dean demands from a nurse he cornered.

"Sir, please let me by. I can't say yet, only the doctor knows."

"Can I just see him? Please?" 

"He needs to remain under observation until his heart rate stabilises, as soon as it does you'll be invited in."

"So you _do_ know what's happening with him!" Dean accuses.

The nurse frowns. "Sir, let me by."

Dean scowls then moves out of her way. She walks quickly away, and Dean turns to stare down the hall they took Cas on a stretcher.

Sam comes around the corner carrying two tiny cups of coffee in his large hands. He reaches Dean, handing one over.

"Hear anything?"

"His heart needs to stabilise."

Sam frowns. "What happened Dean?"

"I don't know!" Dean snaps, nearly spilling the coffee. "Okay? I don't freaking know why he – he... Passed out and I don't get why he won't...." Dean rubs his face, sighing.

"Why he won't, what?" Sam queries.

"Why he won't talk to me. Why he'll barely look at me."

Sam nods in a way that says he understands and Dean hates it. Sam doesn't understand. How could he? He and Cas seemed to be getting on just fine these days, while himself and Cas...are not. 

The younger brother guides Dean to a waiting room where they both sit down and rest their elbows on their knees, sipping their coffee.

It feels like hours before a man in a white coat approaches them.

"You are with..." The man glances at his clipboard, "Castiel Winchester?"

Dean leaps up, "Yeah! Yes, I'm with him. And this is my brother," He adds as an afterthought when Sam stands up next to him. He ignores the look he's sure Sam is giving him about using Winchester as Cas's last name.

"Oh, I see," Says the doctor, and Dean's not exactly sure what it is he sees. "My name is Dr. Helix, and I just ran some basic tests on your partner," he says, speaking directly to Dean.

Oh. Now the older Winchester gets it. This guy thinks he and Cas are together. He would say something, but frankly maybe this way they'll let him see Cas sooner.

"I have a few follow up questions for you," Dean nods, and the doctor continues, "Nurse Allison said Castiel has been experiencing a difficult time breathing, and some chest pains lately?"

"Uh, yeah. He hasn't exactly told me about it specifically, but I could tell he was struggling to breathe a lot. And he's fainted a few times."

"What made you bring him in now?"

Dean takes a steadying breath, "I could feel how fast his heart was beating, and he wasn't waking up."

"Had he been doing anything physical before hand?"

"He was running," Dean admits, fully aware of Sam's confusion behind him.

"I see," The doctor made a few notes. "Well, take a seat, both of you."

The brothers oblige wearily. Dr. Helix sits across from them and sets his clipboard aside in favor of interlocking his fingers.

"So, here's the situation. Everything we've recorded on his heart monitors and what you've described happening recently points to your partner having heart disease."

Dean's pretty sure he heard that wrong.

"Heart...disease?"

"Yes," Helix inclines his head, "But based on a blood test and several X-rays there's no physical evidence that this is true. His heart appears perfectly healthy, completely capable of moving blood through his veins."

"But?" Dean asks, because there's always a 'but'.

"...But we would like to keep him here for a couple nights to do further testing and see what we can do for him."

"Wait, you're saying that there might not be anything wrong with him?" That can't be right, Dean thinks, Cas has been too odd lately for something not to be wrong with him.

"It seems unlikely. Heart disease is extremely unlikely and worse case scenario. He could have something affecting his lungs or breathing abilities, however, which in turn could effect heart rate and cause fainting spells."

"Can I see him now?" Dean asks quietly.

"Yes, you may."

Dr. Helix gets up and so do both brothers.

"Uh, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind if..." Dean feels silly, but for some reason he wants to be the only one there should Cas awake up. 

"Of course," Sam nods, and sits back down.

Dean attempts a grateful smile then follows Helix through double doors and down a long hall. They reach number 413 and the doctor opens the door.

A nurse sits at Cas's bedside using a blood pressure monitor around placed around the angel's upper arm. She sees Dean, checks the monitor, then unwraps it. 

"Hi, I'm Ellen, your..." She gives Dean a questioning look.

"Partner," Deam supplies, and the word comes out far too easily.

"Your partner is doing just fine."

Now Dean's gaze goes to Cas, who is bare-chested and tucked under a thin blanket. A scary looking plastic mask is over his mouth to help him breathe, and a few wires are over his heart, leading to a machine where it shows the angel's heartbeat. It's steadily beeping. 

"I'm going to leave you be," Dr. Helix says behind the hunter, who barely even heard him.

Cas looks so helpless and sad and also...peaceful. More so than he has in weeks. 

"The doc said it probably isn't serious..." Dean says quietly, unconsciously walking towards Cas's bedside opposite the nurse.

"No," She replies softly, "It doesn't look serious. He's very heathy."

Dean nods, staring down at Cas's face. How could he let this happened? Why did it happened? Why didn't he stop it and why didn't Cas _just tell him what's going on_?

"We're not together," Dean says randomly.

Nurse Ellen seems surprised, "Oh? You seem to care an awful lot for him."

"He's my best friend," Dean glares. "But he's been weird lately."

"How's that?"

"I don't know. I guess...he's been closed off. Kept rubbing his chest and acting sick when apparently he's _not_."

"He still could be."

"How's that?"

"Well..." Ellen shrugs, standing up and setting aside the blood pressure monitor. "There's more than heart disease. And I would I say he's definitely having some kind of heart issue."

"How bad can it be?"

"It depends how well he deals with heartache, and based on where you are right now I'd say he doesn't deal with it well."

"Heartache?" Dean repeats incredulously. "You mean like romantic-drama-we-just-broke-up-for-the-eighth-time heartache? That kind of heartache?"

Ellen makes a face, "It's far more genuine than that."

Dean squints, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't be mad. You wanted a diagnosis, I'm giving you one."

"Sure," Dean snorts, "Cas doesn't have any heartache, he's never been with anyone like that."

"Does he love anyone?"

"Not that he's mentioned."

"Does he love you?"

Dean glares at the nurse, "Yeah, I guess. Because he's my _friend_."

"Has he ever told you he loves you?"

"I mean, sure," Dean answers begrudgingly. "A while back we'd had kind of a..." He thought back to the ghost case and how hard it had been to destroy without hurting Cas also, "...difficult day. And he got into the car with me at the end and said he, uh, loved me, or whatever."

"Is that normal for him to say to you?"

"No?" Dean growls, annoyed at how prying this woman is. "Like I said, rough day."

"Walk me through it," Ellen pushes, and Dean feels like he a has no choice but to answer.

"He was being drained by this...bad person of all his emotions. He was fragile, he could've died."

"And how exactly did he say he loved you?"

Dean sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Um, I don't know? He sat down next to me, and he looked over for a minute. He was...pretty broken and tired lookin'. Then he said –" Dean's tops mid-sentence.

_Dean, I need to tell you something._

_What?_

_I love you._

Dean's mouth opens as his eyes widen dramatically. He looks at the nurse.

"Oh my god."

 _I love you. I love you, Dean_.

And what had he said back? What had Dean assumed, what had he thought? The hunter falls back into a chair that he's damn grateful for. He puts his face in his hands, at a loss. It can't be what it sure as hell seems like. It can't be.

"What did he say, Dean?" Ellen asks once more.

"He said..." Dean shakes his head in disbelief, "He said he loves me."

His eyes are watery as he looks to the nurse for consolation. For help. For anything to make this not be true. But when he glances up, the woman is gone. Dissapeared.

 _I love you. I love you, Dean_.

Cas had really said that. And really meant that. And Dean? Dean had smiled good naturedly in response, scoffing a bit.

_Don't get all mushy on me, man. Besides... You know I love you too. You're my family, my brother._

Brother, being the key word. Dean had said _brother_. 

Cas had taken it all to heart. It had _broken_ Cas's heart.

And now Dean's not sure in what way he meant it when he said " _I love you too_."

Is Cas his brother? Or is he...better than that? Different than that. Does Dean _love_ Cas?

There's a groan, and the hunter watches Cas's brilliant blue eyes snap open.

 —

Sam comes into the hospital room after Dean  rushes out without even sparing the angel a parting look.

Cas sits up slowly, his body tired. He pulls off the oxygen mask and wipes at his mouth.

"Hey, Cas, how you feeling?"

"Confused," The angel answers honestly. "Why am I here?"

Sam leans against the counter and gazes at Cas.

"What do you remember?"

"I was..." Cas's face scrunches up in remembrance. "Talking to Dean. And we were...having a disagreement. And I...was upset."

"You passed out again, and we couldn't get you up."

"Oh." Castiel runs his hands over the hospital blanket and pulls it up over himself to cover his bare chest.

"Can I ask what you meant?"

"When?"

Sam bites his lip, "When you said you told Dean something...from the heart?"

Cas turns to face out the window, eyes watery once more. This has been happening so much lately it's normal.

"It hurts too much, Sam. He didn't understand... And I don't think I can handle it anymore."

"What do you mean, Cas?"

The concern in the hunter's voice is deep, and the angel wishes humans cared less about other people. 

"I mean I can't stay with you both anymore, in the bunker. I'm sick...or _whatever_ I am...because of Dean. I can't be around him. I..." Cas glances back at Sam, "I love him in the wrong way and I can't do anything about it."

"It's not wrong," Sam argues, "It's just not the way either of you expected."

"That's very kind of you, Sam..." Cas plucks the wires off his chest and let's them fall to the ground, hanging from the monitor. "But it feels wrong because it isn't... _mutual_. And I thought maybe...it could be. But obviously," He lifts his hands then they flop back down, "it's not."

"Dean may not have understood –"

"Save it, Sam," Cas interrupts bitterly. "Dean didn't understand, _clearly_. He called me his _brother_ , Sam. And while I mean no offence to you, I have no interest in being his _brother_."

"Cas..." Sam's run out of comforting things to say. 

"It's fine, Sam. I'll be fine."

"But Cas –"

"No," The angel holds up a hand. "I'll be fine."

 _I'll be fine_ , Cas tries to convince himself.

 

—

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Thomas Foster's stupid "How to Read Like a Professor" book. 
> 
> I'm a sucker for writing unrequited things ok I'm sorry but I'm not. 
> 
> If you wanna make this fic into your own, please do. That's kinda the point of this series. Just lemme know.
> 
> Stalk me on tumblr @theimpossibleimpala.


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